It had His Love
by Bibliolympian
Summary: It's her birthday and her deathday. Ian decides to see her because she left something with him, and he wants her to keep it. AU. Future fic. Written for Luver.Of.Pie's Tearjerker Contest.  No longer for any contest.


**Title: **It had His Love

**Length:** 1, 734 words

**Category: **Hurt/Comfort/Romance

**Rating:** K+

**Summary:** It's her birthday and her deathday. Ian decides to see her because she left something with him, and he wants her to keep it. AU. Future fic. Written for .Pie's Tearjerker Contest. Really short, I know.

"'_Tis better to have love and lost,_

_Than never to have loved at all."_

_-Alfred, Lord Tennyson_

"It's your birthday today, love. I'm glad you made it through another year," Ian whispered gently into her ear as he sat down beside Amy.

She lifted her head slowly from the uncomfortable hospital bed. The way she craned her neck to see him, her glistening emerald eyes that were losing its color and its lust, were so full of pain and hurt and _hope_ that Ian felt like crying. Not that he ever did in front of her; he respected how hard she tries to live and stay alive and there's no way he was going to make it harder on her. Usually, he held it back until he got home, where he stood in the bedroom, the one that should have been hers, like a statue, and let his tears drip freely off his face. The once fiery red of her hair was fading now, like the color of a child's crimson kite left out in the sun too long; the fragile looking locks were clammy with sweat as he tucked it behind her ear. Her face, once flushed and vibrant pink was now pale and gaunt and like a shadow of her past self, but when she smiled, all his troubles just seemed to fade away because of how _good _she looked, how natural it was and how much it reminded him of when she was okay. How like an angel sent from heaven to do her bidding of good, despite the pain and hatred and jealousy she's gained over the years from others. Despite the desperate attempts on her life and how futile her efforts were.

"Ian," she acknowledged softly, with effort, he noticed. He winced as he noticed how hard it was on her to speak, like her throat has given up on her in this life even though she hasn't, not yet, not now. Her fingers, all skin and bones, reached over to grip his, and he held on firmly. Gently, he squeezed.

"Shh… just rest, Amy. If you make it through today, I have something special for you to open," he teased, putting a small parcel next to her, on her white bedspread.

He placed her hand on it, and she traced the white nylon string as if trying to remember it, to hold on to the moment. Slowly, a grin edged its way onto her face as she remembered the times before it got like this. She had always liked small and simple things, and even though it was just in a brown paper wrapping, she could tell that he gave her something else much more valuable with it. Something he'd never give away freely, not ever, not to someone even like Natalie. But the smile soon turned wry as she remembered what it took for it to become hers. It took her time, it took her effort, gentle caresses, and now, it seemed, it's taking her life, too. But no matter. She was going to have it now, even though it was so hard to hold on to. She'd left it in so many places: in Korea, in the mansion, in the room, even though he'd always kept what she had given him. But, Amy knew there was going to be no more time or effort, or anything they've ever shared if she doesn't take it right now, because, heck, _she's dying_, really dying, deep inside where she feels her heart slow down beat by beat.

Instinctively, she reached up to the jade necklace that wasn't there anymore. Her eyes closed as she remembered the last time she wore it, the last time she had it, before it got confiscated by the hospital, or the jail cell that she's staying in, it feels like. The jade was heavy on her chest, but she liked how sturdy and how definite it was, how sure it felt to her, like an anchor to the world of the living. Of course, that was before the employee stole it from her because of how weak she was, how good a target, how close to death. Her breath quickened as she recalled how it was snatched away into the hands of a pretty nurse, telling her how it was bad for her health, and if she was able to she would have said something along the lines of _Blast that, my grandmother died with that on and that's how I plan on dying, too, _but of course she couldn't. The nurse didn't know, but as she let a tear slide off her cheek, Amy saw her clasp the necklace onto her neck when she walked out the hospital room. That was a story for another day, though, before Ian went into hysterics to get back the necklace. He'd probably sue or something, because even though he's changed from when they were young, that was an aspect he probably could and would never change. She doesn't want the last thing she does before she departs to be trouble.

"Ian, I—I want you to t-take it b-back," she says, not believing what she just said. With her lower lip trembling, she pushed the present away from her covers. When she finally mustered up the courage to open her eyes, she couldn't meet his amber ones anymore. Ian and Amy both know that her stuttering isn't that stupid stutter she had before; she grew out of it long ago; it was because of what she meant. In fact, he looks like he isn't registering what left her lips until suddenly it looked like someone chucked the jade necklace out of nowhere at his face.

"Wait—what? You don't want it? Amy—"

"No. I—I…" her breathing got shallower as she paused. Ian pushed a few overgrown bangs out of her face again. "Give it to someone more deserving. Someone who'll stay by your side, through everything. Not like me, how I will abandon you, and we both know that."

"You'll never abandon me, Amy," Ian said quietly after a moment of silence. "I was always the one running away." She looked like she's a ghost now, but Ian had faith in the good that she was.

"You don't understand, love, it's a one of a kind present. Even if I give it to someone else, which I will never do, it wouldn't fit them. It only fits you." And it was true. He's spent so many hours around her, took so many sick days off from work, that even if he tried to, there's no way it could happen, because really, she's _Amy Cahill_, a one-of-a-kind girl, and he's gotten so used to that fact that at least, if somehow he finally let another girl that wasn't Natalie into his life, her name would at least have to start with an 'A' and her last name a 'C' from all the times he's said her name alone.

"No." Amy opened her eyes and looked at him one last time, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I don't care what you say, make it fit the special someone, because I hope she'll be better than me. It shouldn't be too hard, considering how reluctantly you're finally offering it to me." She smiled wryly. "Remember what I said, Ian." And oh, and there's so much more she could have said, like how even though she wasn't accepting his present doesn't mean that she wants what she gave him back. She wants him to keep it, keep it forever, as something he could remember her by. But what hasn't been said has already been assumed, and she knew that anything else she says would be extra. By the way, if she thought about it any more, she would start to cry, and she doesn't have the energy to. Wouldn't Sinead like _that_, hearing how she cried herself to death.

Any more thinking she would have done seriously would've ruined everything she's trying to do now. Like how much she wants him to kiss her one last time before she departs, but Amy knew that she didn't have the energy to, and by the way, there would have been no way he's going to find someone special after he leaves if that happens, because kissing a corpse would definitely make him forget about her. A kiss would be the perfect way for him to show her that he'll never move on, so now, how's she supposed to die in peace?

Oh well, it's too late now, she thought. Ian, please learn to love, for me.

And she closed her eyes.

Ian went to her small funeral, consisting only of himself and her grave. After she changed her name, nobody knew who she was, excepting him. Even Dan didn't know. He knelt down in front of her grave, knees in the freshly dug dirt, and spoke his last words to her.

He couldn't believe that he let her die believing that he gave it to her out of pity, how she thought that the last few months they spent together was all out of guilt and sorrow. She should have been smarter to realize, that hey, he just doesn't feel sorrow towards anyone but her, and that's because she's the only person he's willing to give it to. But of course, she was smart when dealing with everyone but Ian Kabra. The whole way along, he's just consciously realized, she was reluctant and kept losing it because she thought, she believed, he was using her as a replacement for something he's never felt. Using her for his amusement. If only she had used her smart brain.

He hates how he was her blind side. He hates how willingly she thinks she let him use her.

"Amy," his voice broke. "It was always you."

He gently placed the brown paper bag tied with a nylon string on her grave. It was his last time visiting her, but he gave her that package that had what she wanted.

It had his love.


End file.
